


Glance

by SalemDae_45



Series: A Dubious Affair Verse [1]
Category: Law & Order: SVU, White Collar
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, F/M, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-11
Updated: 2011-11-11
Packaged: 2017-10-25 22:50:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/275708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SalemDae_45/pseuds/SalemDae_45
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started with a glance.<br/>Originally posted 28/9/2011</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glance

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own any of these fine gentlemen. I only own this story. No character were harmed in this fic until next time!

It started with a glance.

Peter looked at him, his lips dry and his pulse quicken. He watched Elliot’s blue eyes glisten with mischief as his lips curled into a smirk. Peter never admitted it but the smirk turned him on. It heated his skin to watch him widened his lips while flashing his teeth, and sometimes his tongue protrude slightly from his mouth. Peter couldn’t help but think about how one smirk can change a man’s appearance. He seemed younger, sexier, appealing to his eyes like a woman with a beautiful smile and voluptuous tits.

What the hell was Peter thinking? Elliot was his friend for almost four years. He wasn’t supposed to see him in a different light, especially during his rare time offs. They were supposed to be two men, hanging out, drinking beer, and enjoying each other company. They were not into or even attracted to each other. But, Peter found himself staring at him, finding each moment irresistible.

Peter kept his eyes on him. One longing glance became an obsession, a tug in his stomach for something more. He saw him running his thumb thoughtlessly around the rim of his beer bottle. He stroked it slowly, as if it was a lover’s neck or…

Peter moved uncomfortably in his seat. He couldn’t turn away from Elliot’s hand caressing the bottle. He knew he wasn’t drunk. Beer never made him tipsy, not the first three bottles, but he felt intoxicated, dazed, as if flowing in a directionless wave of water. He licked his lips, watching Elliot pressed the bottle between his lips and allowed the brown liquid to run down his throat. His tongue licked around the rim, licking whatever juices remained.

Peter felt his mouth dropped. He never noticed how much satisfaction Elliot got from drinking beer. Then again, Peter hardly noticed anything about him until today. Peter gripped his denim covered thigh. His body tensed as his eyes widen with a hint lust and hunger. He tried to ignore the growing attraction to Elliot but the throbbing of his cock and the spinning of his mind prevented him.

He didn’t understand the sudden attraction. Maybe it was there all along, buried underneath work, wife, and life. He didn’t know but all the forces of the world couldn’t stop him from wanting Elliot.

Elliot rested his arm behind Peter’s neck, the smirk still intact. Those fingers tickled his neck, making Peter’s fine hair stand.

Peter breathed deeply, maintaining his control despite, slowly, losing it. Each lazy movement of Elliot’s hand drove Peter to a mental breakdown. He tried but he found himself wanting him more. Just to explore his newfound animalistic need to feel his lips on his or his body pressed against his own: one chance to devour him and then move on to his so-called life.

“What’s wrong?” his voice sounded cool, causal.

“Nothing,” Peter lied.

“Something’s wrong, Pete. You can tell me.” His fingers caressed the side of his neck. His thumb lightly touched his jawline.

Peter jerked away.

“It’s nothing. Do you need another beer?”

“Not right now.” Elliot moved closer.

He felt his leg touching his and the hot breath upon his face. It was the perfect time to push him away. He could have done it, but, instead, he invited him. He leaned against the arm of the sofa, allowing Elliot to corner him. Peter inhaled the smell of cheap cologne which made his head buzzed. His face hovered over the other man, daring him for one kiss, one touch, and one moment to explore the endless possibilities. Elliot wanted him. Peter wanted Elliot and it drove him over the edge.

“Sure?”

“I have other things in mind.”

“Then what’s taking you so long?” Peter crushed his lips against the Elliot. For one minute his mind wasn’t on the beer, the game, or his wife. His mind was on the instant attraction between them.

He pulled Elliot close, running his fingers under his shirt, feeling his arched back before landing on his firm ass. It wasn’t an intimate kiss he shared with his wife, nor wasn’t calm and gentle. It was heated, a dark passion that rattled his bones. It felt good to finally kiss him, taste every flavor from the stale coffee to the spices of the beer.

Peter groaned when Elliot start palming his aching cock, making each stroke unbearable and electrifying. He growled, breaking the kiss and allowing him to run his lips down his neck. There were places his friend shouldn’t touch since it belong to his wife, but it felt too damn good.

Peter moved his hips upward, meeting his quicken pace. Peter rested his head on the sofa, meeting Elliot’s lips again. He gripped the back of his neck and pulled him closer until there was no space between them. He stroked his tongue and bruised the other man’s lips. No words could describe how he felt just by kissing him. To feel his tongue going down his throat or the tug of Elliot’s lips between his teeth: he couldn’t get enough. He was in ecstasy, a high which he doesn’t want to let go…

…until the click of the door interrupted them.

Peter shoved Elliot away and tried to straighten himself. He prayed it wasn’t El. How was he supposed to explain his appearance, especially his swollen lips? Peter picked up his beer and tried to act normal.

He heard the door closed.

“Did the game start?” Elizabeth asked, carrying an armful of groceries.

“Not yet. Need any help?” He stood from the sofa and took the bags from El.

“Thank you, Elliot. Maybe Peter will learn something from you,” she teased.

Peter chuckled despite the flips and twists his stomach did.

“I do help around the house, El.”

“Making the bed once and awhile isn’t considered housework, honey.”

“It is, El. Elliot, help me out?”

“I’m staying outta this,” he said while in the kitchen.

Peter heard El laughing as she came out of the kitchen. The smile he came accustomed to during their four year marriage always brought him to his knees. Unfortunately, even the rosy grin couldn’t help ease the guilt consuming his thoughts. He didn’t believe in the “Catholic Guilt” but it would fit his mood.

Peter felt her arms wrapped around his neck as she planted small kisses down his face. He tried to smile but it came out as a small grimace. Thankfully, Elizabeth didn’t notice.

“You’re on your own, Pete. Give up or I won’t make your favorite dish.” She bit his ear.

“Fine. You win.” He threw up his arms in defeat.

“I always do. Let me get started on dinner. Elliot, would like to join us?”

Peter swallowed the lump forming in his throat. He wasn’t sure if he could have a calm dinner with Elliot and El after what he did. He loved the kiss but hated the aftermath.

“Maybe next time, Elizabeth. I have to help Kathy with dinner too.”

“I understand. Maybe anot--”

“Come on, Eli, the game is on!” he interrupted El.

Peter saw Elliot entering the room and sat beside him. Awkward silence took over and Peter wasn’t sure what to say to him. How could he tell him? He liked the kiss and it couldn’t happen again? Of course it couldn’t happen again. They were both happily married men with beautiful wives and nice professions. Why would Peter fuck it up with a kiss and a sexual attraction? He loved El. He loved Elliot as a friend and nothing more.

If only he could tell his dick that.

“I think the Saints will lose.” Elliot said matter-of-factly, as if nothing happened between them.

Peter raised a brow.

“So it’s going to be like that?” He asked.

Elliot shrugged. It was what Peter expected from him. He was the type to keep his emotions bottled inside. It wasn’t healthy but it was Elliot’s way of avoiding the reality of his life, such as the growing tensions between him and Kathy. Peter knew, he always knew, even when Elliot didn’t telling him.

“Might as well enjoy the sin, Pete.” His eyes glued to the TV.

At least he acknowledged it, somewhat.

As much as he wanted to make clear of the situation, he should leave it alone. They were not doing it again, no matter how much Peter loved the feel of Elliot’s lips. It would stay in the past and never brought to light. It was for the sake of his sanity and their families. Peter was, after all, a cautions man who knew his limits.

Although, he will admit, Elliot was a damn good kisser.

Peter shrugged.

“Might as well.”


End file.
